


What Came After All That Hell

by itsnicsalad



Series: Aftermath [1]
Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Gen, i don't know how this website works, i have no idea lol, if you havent checked out Morci's "Beautiful" animatic on youtube i really recommend it, it's what inspired me to write this story, jamie and neville are characters based off some bg charas in her animatic, maybe a little bit angsty?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24978847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnicsalad/pseuds/itsnicsalad
Summary: Inspired by Morci's "Beautiful" animatic on Youtube (go check it out, it's really good!!)Basically a little bit of of the aftermath of what came after all that Heathers-JD drama told through the eyes of someone who's been watching from the sidelines (and admires Veronica a bit more than he should).
Series: Aftermath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808053
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	What Came After All That Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this at school cuz I was bored and decided to post it here cuz why not-  
> Heathers is the first ever musical production I got into and I love it so much :DD though I've only been into it for a month or two, so I apologise if this is a little inaccurate.
> 
> First part of a two-part story that I'm planning on publishing here <3 hope you enjoy

I saw her. Walking through the overcrowded hallways of Westerburg, head held high as she sauntered past the overlooking crowd. Her hair, her clothes, were all a dishevelled mess. Without a care in the world. I looked on. She was alluring, in a rugged, rebellious kind of way. I admired her confidence, a bit too much.

My friend Neville grabbed me by the shoulders and ushered me away, muttering something about “ _ that blue balled bitch _ ”. I managed to catch a glimpse of her chestnut hair as she stopped to talk to her best friend, Martha Dunnstock. “....pop some Jiffy Pop and rent a video, something with a happy ending….”

Neville convinced me to skip class. I trailed behind him as he led us towards the milk bar downtown. The place was dimly lit, what with the lights flickering on and off every minute or so. We ducked into a dark booth, mumbling our orders to the waitress with the skin tight dress and thigh highs.

“Man, don’t tell me you’re still hung up over Sawyer.” I rested my head in my hands as Neville berated me. The waitress walked away. “She’s a murderer for Christ’s sake.”

“You don’t know that…”

“Dude, everyone knows. And yet here you are. You really wanna hook up with her that bad huh?”

I bolted upright, my face flushed. Neville was sitting cross legged in his seat, slowly ripping his napkin into strips. I could make out the confusion and disgust in my friend’s face.

“The hell? I’ve never- I- you- you don’t even care about Kurt, or Ram! You’re just sad cuz your future fuckgirl got killed.”

“HEY-”

“You only liked Heather Chandler cuz she was hot.” The tender behind the counter wiped the surface, eyebrow raised. I lowered my voice, “You were horny for her looks, but you never wanted to get to know her. Doesn’t matter now though. You know, since she’s  _ dead _ ,” I hissed.  He shot me an icy glare, but stayed put. I could tell he was pissed. He wasn’t that big on physically fighting anyone, not that he could anyway. He was a pussy.

We sat there in silence, our voices lingering in the still air. I watched the lights. On. Off. On. Off.  The waitress set our drinks down on the table. I avoided Neville’s stares as I got up without a word, paid for the shake, and calmly walked out of the bar.

Neville was probably right though. Maybe I am insane for still being hung up on Veronica. But I’ve liked her for a while, even before she fell in line with the Heathers. She’s kind, considerate, always looking out for those who couldn’t themselves, I can only hope that JD hadn’t erased all those good qualities from within her with his god awful mind tricks and slushies.

I scrambled to school the next day, stuffing my books into my bag as I raced down the halls.  _ Damn I should really get a new alarm _ .

Without pausing, I dashed around the corner and bumped into someone. I fell to the floor with a thud, my books flying everywhere.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

I quickly glanced up and saw a familiar face staring back at me.

“Veronica?”

“Oh it’s- James, right? You’re in my English class aren’t you?” She began to pick up the books that lay limply on the ground.

“Jamie, actually.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s ok. Thanks.” 

“Mmh.” She handed me the pile of books in her arms. I carefully placed them into my bag.

“Where’re you off to? English is about to start.”

“Got a call from the office. Apparently the officers scheduled a questioning sesh without telling me. Fucking assholes...”

She looked up and chuckled, though it wasn’t genuine. “Man I’m sorry. You probably think I’m weird or something-”

I waved my hands, as if backhanding her words. “It’s fine, really.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re not a bad person Sawyer,” I said, rising to my feet. I offered her my hand and pulled her up. “You just fell in with the wrong crowd, that’s all. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re still the nice and encouraging person you’ve always been.”

She quickly pulled her hand away, but I could see a slight smile under all that denial.

“Thanks, but I’ve really gotta dash now.”   
“Oh! O-of course. I’ll tell the professor that you’re away.”

She stared at me for a second or two, then punched my shoulder.  “You’re a hell of a lifesaver man. I owe you one.” She threw me one last glance over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

The school bell rang, echoing down the hallway. I lingered there, as if I was waiting for her to return, to come back to me. But she didn’t.

After a lengthy rant from Miss Flemming and a detention slip (old hag hasn’t softened, that’s for sure) I finally slumped into my chair in class. The teacher paid me no mind, his back facing the class as he scribbled on the blackboard. As I reached to grab my English book, I felt something rough brush my hand. 

_ Wait, is that leather? _

I grabbed a hold of it, hoisting it into my lap. A journal?  _ Where’d I get this from… _

I scanned the cover. There were only two words, scrawled hastily on a sticker with a blue marker. “ Veronica’s Diary .”

_ Must’ve mixed up with my books when I bumped into her earlier.  _ I hesitantly flipped to the first page.  _ I shouldn’t be doing this,  _ I told myself.  _ It's an invasion of her privacy _ . But she’s not here, and who knows? Maybe this’ll explain everything that she went through over those past couple of months. I’m praying she doesn’t kill me if she finds out…

I began to read.  “September 1st, 1989.”

“Dear diary….”


End file.
